The Company You Keep
by TheSouthernScribe
Summary: Jonathan Gilbert's poorly played chess move was the catalyst that had awakened a thirst for power in the supernatural community. They were descending upon Mystic Falls like it was the second coming of Sunnydale without a slayer.


_Disclaimer: About that…I don't own them…originally written for LJ's – TheWitchGoddess summer prompt-a-thon_

_**The Company You Keep**_

Bonnie had trouble reading his energy, but that's not what made him stick out like a sore thumb. There was something about him. He wasn't normal. Not like the guy beside him, shoveling pancakes in his mouth like it's his last meal and tomorrow he'll die. Matter of fact he was no where near normal.

Their auras were muddled and the novice witch was unsure if these Mystic Falls' newcomers were friends or foes. They were both road weary. Eyes framed by lines that implied it had been days possibly weeks since they'd achieved a decent night of sleep. The irritated and disgruntled human garbage disposal paused each and every time the door chimed and a new patron entered the door.

They were looking for something or someone.

Obviously, the Mystic Grill's breakfast menu wasn't the main attraction for the crew of two's visit and Bonnie thought it would be best to keep a cautious eye on both guys. She studied them shifting from one to the other – tall to short - one full of false bravado - the other a quiet danger that caused goose bumps to line her skin. It was nervous energy and not fear that compelled her to brush the stray strand of hair behind her ear and drop her lids in order to shield her eyes from his pensive gaze. An easy smile stretched across his face when their eyes met and Bonnie could only return an equally brilliant smile in response.

"_He's cute_", the words were barely a whisper hanging on her tongue. That was a bad sign. Bonnie groaned pushing the thought aside because the last time she thought a guy was hot he turned out to be a vampire with a penchant for ropes and a deficit in the common sense department since he found it difficult to stay away from the sun's rays even tucked away inside.

"Good morning little witch." The eldest Salvatore brother draped an arm over her shoulder and leaned in to take a whiff of her scent. "You smell positively mouth watering."

Just like that the morning went straight to hell.

With a finger pointed in his face, "Fire – your limbs Salvatore." Out of the corner of her eye Bonnie swore she saw one onlooker nudge the other.

"Coffee for the little…umm…high school hottie who woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Damon leaned in stealing another quick smell, "You would be smiling right now if you woke up in my bed."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, "I don't do dead dicks."

"Oh look we have something in common – neither do I." Damon turned and pressed his back against the counter before he turned towards the strangers and waved. His voice dropped to a whisper, "A warning witch. We have visitors – one or two," he allowed his eyes to travel across the counter, "Are bad company to keep."

"And I guess you're a boy scout." The waitress placed a steaming mug of coffee before her. "Just do what you do best Damon – disappear."

Damon proceeded to invade her personal space, "Silly Bonnie that's not what I do best."

He was incorrigible, too sexy for words but still incorrigible.

"Leave me alone."

He was too close and she couldn't think, plus he was blocking a gorgeous view.

Damon continued, "You need to listen."

Bonnie countered, "You need to get out of my face."

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted their escalating argument.

"Excuse you – early morning foreplay." Damon gestured for the rude intruder to move along. "Poof be gone."

"I believe she said leave her alone."

His voice wasn't overly deep but it had a quality of warmth to it as it wrapped around Bonnie like a blanket. She watched as he squared his shoulders accepting Damon's unspoken challenge.

The vampire moved to grab the third wheel's arm and he froze before his fingers connected with his victim's body. The man's eyes were completely black and it was a clear and ominous threat to his attacker. Bonnie noticed something vaguely reminiscent to reverence in the look on Damon's face. He didn't say a word, he stood, eyes trained on the stranger, and he did something she'd never seen, Damon Salvatore walked away from a fight.

Shocked Bonnie struggled to form a coherent sentence, "I guess I should say thank you."

"No problem." Tall, vicious, and handsome extended his hand, "Sam Winchester."

"Bonnie Bennett." She shook his hand firmly with her introduction.

"I know." He'd just earned her full attention. "You're kind of why I'm…"

"Hello…what am I…" Stranger number two walked over and took Bonnie's hand, "Dean Winchester – the smarter - more gorgeous older brother."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose before he slapped Dean's hand away from Bonnie's. "Is there someplace we can talk?"

* * *

"What are you?"

Bonnie finally broke the silence that hung between them while Dean snored himself into delirium on Sheila Bennett's couch. Damon Salvatore didn't scare easily. He never stood down especially when it came to maintaining his reputation. Still the vampire had chosen not to buck Sam's authority.

"There's a whole lot more out there than just vampires and witches, Bonnie." His words held a prophetic meaning.

Bonnie grabbed her keys, "You can stay here, as long as you need." Her grandmother's presence still lingered in the home and the young witch felt like she was drowning.

The hand on Bonnie's shoulder was full of comfort and she fought not buckle under the weight of the tears locked behind her lids. "They're always there…eventually…you learn to enjoy the company."

She didn't know how he knew, but a part of her was glad someone else understood. With her back turned to Sam, Bonnie threw a quick goodnight over her shoulder before rushing out the door and away from the memories.

That night Bonnie studied her Grams' grimoire as she recalled Damon and the Winchesters' separate warnings. For weeks Salvatore had spoken of a pending war. Citing Jonathan Gilbert's poorly played chess move as the catalyst that had awakened a thirst for power in the supernatural community. They were descending upon Mystic Falls like it was the second coming of Sunnydale without a slayer. She shut the book and crawled under the covers, her mind was filled with questions that she was too tired to explore.

It was after one, Bonnie had glanced at the red numbers of the clock just before she was roused from sleep by an unyielding grip on her neck. There were at least four beings in the room. She could sense them. Her eyes struggled to make out the figures. One held her legs still in the bed. Two were in charge of her arms and keeping her upper body restrained. The final presence was responsible for ending her life.

They were living, breathing souls.

Her ears detected the distinct sound of rhythmic heartbeats. She tried to scream. Tears stung her eyes when an attempt at using her powers failed to dissuade their attack.

This was death.

Bonnie could hear her grandmother's voice urging her to fight. She saw the soft lines of her mother's face as her breathing slowed and the beat of her heart became irregular. Before she could slip effortlessly into the darkness a reprieve was granted. The unseen hands left her throat. She regained control of her limbs and immediately produced a ring of fire around her bed.

Then Bonnie saw him.

Sam Winchester.

His hands were extended before him. The concealment spell was broken and Bonnie finally laid eyes on her attackers. Four nameless men she'd never encountered cried out in pain as their life forces were drained by the power in Sam's outstretched palms.

Dean made it up the stairs, gun clutched tightly to his chest as he struggled to catch breath. Sam's litheness form fell to the floor.

Normal definitely didn't apply to Sam.

Bonnie cradled his head in her lap and waited for his eyes to open. Her fingertips traced the long sandy lashes, the slope of his nose, and finally rested on the pronounced pout of his lips.

She would be dead right now_ if_…

Sam's eyes popped open. They were full of questions. Bonnie did her best to quell his fears, "Thank you." She mouthed before leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

Dean cleared his throat and all she could do was laugh. "You too – thank you."

The smile was still plastered on her face as she watched the tail lights of their car disappear over the hill. Even Damon, with an arm, snaked around her waist couldn't ruin her mood.

Well until he spoke...

"Little witch, we really need to talk about the company you keep."


End file.
